


On the Brightside

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Coming Untouched, Dates, Fluff, Football, Harry is Insecure About People Not Liking Him, Louis is Hard-Of-Hearing, M/M, Obviousily, Restaraunts, Smut, Soccer, larry stylinson - Freeform, loads of fluff, they fall in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-04-05 00:30:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4158750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Styles was a romantic at heart, so the fact that he hadn't been in a relationship in a long while made him kind of antsy. He went on several blind dates, most of them skipping out early just because they didn't want to hear Harry ramble about useless things no one seemed to care about besides him. On his last attempt at a romance, Harry met a lovely hard-of-hearing man who tended to turn up the volume of his hearing aids just to hear Harry speak because he found him so endearing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On the Brightside

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came from larrytweets on Tumblr

Harry grew up savoring the stories of princesses in castles, being rescued by their Prince Charming. He loved the way it always had a happy ending, and the way that no matter how long she had to wait, the princess was always saved. Prince Charming would fight his way through any obstacle - massive dragon, sorcerers, or the occasional miscalculation of the map - in order to save the damsel in distress, who would turn out to be his true love. It gave Harry the hope that he too, one day, would meet his Prince Charming who would whisk him away from his solitude and treat him the way he had fantasized of being treated.  
  
The only problem with that, however, is that Harry really had nothing he needed to be saved from. He lived in a relatively simple flat, lead a relatively simple lifestyle, and only shared his belongings with himself. The only thing that proved to be even a slight trial in his life was the loneliness that he tried not to think about too often. It wasn't _that_ big of a problem, really. It's just that he constantly woke up to an empty bed, made dinner for one, and "indulged" himself in Netflix marathons when life just wasn't handing him lemons to make lemonade. The more he thinks about it, the grayer his life seems to get, so naturally, he doesn't like to think about it.  
  
Just because he was lonely doesn't mean he wasn't doing anything to fix it, though. In fact, he sat at tables across from people in fancy restaurants; occasionally being set up on a blind date. Harry liked the ideas of blind dates and the certain amount of spontaneity that came along with it. The only thing he didn't like, however, was the lack of results he seemed to always receive. He thought he was a likable person, kind enough, smart enough. Apparently not many people agreed, though, because after only an hour or so of talking with him, most of his dates just happened to forget something they were supposed to do, so of course they leave early to get it done. The excuses ranged from "I have to feed my cat" to "My grandma is in the hospital and I should go see how she's doing." Sometimes they were legitimate excuses (Harry was very good at reading people and often took a deep look to see whether the person was genuine or not) and sometimes his date was such a bad liar that he needed to double check to make sure they weren't merely messing with him.  
  
Every once in awhile, when he did find a decent person to talk with, they never seemed to be interested after that.  
  
That's why Harry took a deep sigh as his date across from him took out his phone to shoot a quick message.  
  
"That's okay, not like I was in the middle of talking or anything," Harry mumbled under his breath. The man looked up from his phone.  
  
"What was that?" He looked back down at his phone and pocketed it, "Oh, sorry mate. My friend is just at this wicked party and he was sending me pictures. Do you want to see?" He eagerly took out his phone again, swiping through his messages before Harry even had the chance to respond. He showed Harry some picture of a really crowded room, the lighting a bit green and purple. He wasn't too sure what he was supposed to be looking at, so he just smiled and nodded, raising his eyebrows.  
  
"Sick, right?" The man asked him.  
  
Yeah. Sick.  
  
They ended up chatting for a few more minutes, and while Harry's date was in the bathroom, he asked the waiter to bring him the check early.  
  
"No dessert? We have a special on our chocolate lava cake this week if you're interested," The waiter said, setting down a small black folder.  
  
"No, thanks, I'm quite full," Harry commented, patting his small stomach for extra emphasis. The waiter nodded and headed back over to the register. Harry payed for the meal (not because he was being nice, but it was just more convenient) right as his date was sitting back down.  
  
"Sorry I took so long. There was a longer queue for the toilets than I was expecting," Harry shot a quick glance to the bathroom, noting how as one man entered and the door swung open for a second, it was almost completely vacant. Harry thanked his date for meeting him and it was nice to get out for a bit and, no, he didn't want to go back with him to his place because he had to get to work early tomorrow, and yes he knew it was a Saturday but someone has to be there, right? Harry didn't mention the fact that he owned his own bakery and he practically made his own hours, but he figured that information didn't _need_ to be shared. Harry nodded and smiled when his date said he'd call him because he thought the gesture was nice, but he knew it would probably never happen.  
  
Halfway through the parking lot to get to his own car, Harry realized he was in extreme need to use the toilets. His car was right in front of him, but of course, the drive home would be about fifteen minutes. After five minutes of debating whether to suck it up or use the bathroom in the small convenient shop right next to him, his bladder only filled more, causing his grip to loosen on the car door as he headed into the small shop. A bell chimed as he walked in and there was a disgruntled-looking teenager at the front desk. She gave Harry a once-over (probably wondering why a well-dressed man was walking into a convenient store at 9 o'clock in the evening) as he approached her.  
  
"Can I use your bathroom?" He asked.  
  
She looked at him for a second, then pulled out some medieval-looking key and handed it to him, "It's all the way in the back." Harry thanked her and headed to the bathroom, pretending not to notice the "CUSTOMERS ONLY" sign plastered on the front of the toilet entrance. He opened the door and picked the first urinal he saw, completely oblivious to the fact that there was another man using the one right next to him. As soon as he was done, he zipped up his jeans and tried to register the sound coming from next to him. He looked up and realized the man was humming.  
  
The first thing Harry noticed was the depth of his blue eyes. It's as if you could see the entire pacific ocean by looking at him. In a completely unexpected turn of events, Harry's heart fluttered before they even made eye contact. The man next to him also had the softest, and fluffiest light brown hair and Harry had to literally stop himself from reaching out and combing his fingers through the man's hair. The man's light completion also complimented his feminine, yet strong features. It was then that Harry realized the man had a beautiful, curvy waist that he would love to get his hands on.  
  
The man also had a beautiful voice and okay this was officially his dream guy. He moved on to the sink to complete the bathroom process, and the stranger caught him staring. Harry smiled and the man just blushed and looked back down, a small smile playing on his lips. This stranger hadn't even talked yet, but Harry was sure that he was amazing in every way. The man started humming "Valerie" and Harry took that as his cue to jump in.  
"You have a beautiful voice," he commented. The stranger didn't show any indication that Harry heard him - just continued humming to himself and grabbing a few paper towels to dry his hands.  
  
Harry frowned, wondering why the man didn't respond. At first, he guessed that the man was just being rude, but he looked far too delicate for that. Then, he figured that he could've just not heard him, or maybe wasn't listening?  
  
"Excuse me?" Harry asked again, voice a bit softer. The man still didn't turn around.  
  
"Sir!" Harry said again, and this time, the man turned around slowly as if Harry didn't shout, but whisper.  
  
"Did you say something?" The man asked, fixing his glasses, "Sorry, I can't hear very well." Harry nodded and immediately felt guilty.  
  
"Oh, sorry, I was just going to tell you that you had a paper stuck to your shoe," He lied. The man watched Harry's lips the entire time, and paused for a second after Harry had finished his sentence, then looked down at his shoes and blushed.  
  
"Thanks, mate," He ripped the small paper from his shoes and threw it in the bin.  
  
As he walked out, he looked at Harry before saying a polite, "Have a nice night" and heading his way. Harry stood there for a second, dazed and confused. He felt bad for not coming to the conclusion that the man probably had a hearing problem sooner, but at the same time, he wondered if his hearing was _that bad_ why he didn't have on hearing aids. As he walked to his car, he suddenly had a million questions for the mysterious man and wanted to know everything about him. Not to mention, he was also by far the most beautiful man that Harry had ever had the pleasure of laying his eyes on, so of course he wanted to get to know him better. If that "getting to know him bette" involved the man sprawled out over Harry's bed, then, hey, he wasn't one to judge. Harry smiled at himself as he made his way to his car, but a the same time feeling bad that he most likely wouldn't see the man ever again.  
  
****  
  
"No, absolutely not, I refuse," Harry said, crossing his arms and slouching into the couch. His best friend of ten years was trying to convince him to try out one more blind date. It was never going to happen, Harry always found himself arguing, the last ones were complete disasters.  
  
"This guy is great, I swear. He's not like the other ones," Niall said, plopping down on the space right next to Harry and shutting the TV off, "He's charming, he's funny, he's a great lad, and if I wasn't straight I would take him for myself." He looked to Harry, who had started putting his hair up into a bun.  
  
"Listen, Niall," he said, his teeth clenching a hair tie, "I appreciate your concern but," He took the hair tie out of his mouth and put it in his hair, "I am perfectly fine on my own."  
  
Niall shook his head, "No. This will not due. Try this last date, and I _promise_ you two will get along like... Like a knife and butter. Like peanut butter and jelly. Like peas in a po-" Harry clamped his hand over Niall's mouth, claiming yes, he got it. Niall smiled and went in the other room to make a phone call and set it up.  
  
"Okay, so his name is Louis for starters," Niall announced, practically glowing as he entered the room, "And he's a great guy."  
  
"Any specifics you can give me? Show me a picture?" Harry muted the tele.  
  
"Well, I don't have a picture of him, but he has blue eyes and brown hair. And he's," Niall paused, looking off into the distance for a few seconds, "23 years old."  
  
"25? Niall, you're setting me up with an old man?" Niall punched his arm, playfully telling him to shut up because "You're 21 you shithead."  
  
They continued discussing this man, and when Harry tried to look him up on Facebook, Niall shut down the computer immediately, claiming that seeing a picture before a blind date is bad luck. Of course, neither of them actually believed this, but whatever got Harry better chances of meeting the love of his life was worth trying. When Niall finished describing the lad, Harry imagined the beautiful man he saw in the toilets. He didn't tell this to Niall, but he secretly hoped that this would be the same man. The again,the chances were pretty slim because what were the odds of that same man knowing Niall and being into men and agreeing to go on a blind date with his friend?  
  
****  
  
Harry wouldn't call himself socially inept. Other people might, but he wouldn't. He knew how to carry a conversation, and he could put himself in other people's shoes, and "ooh" and "ah" at the right places in a story. The one thing, though, that his family and friends (mostly Niall) told him he needed to work on, was his inability to tell when someone was bored with what he was talking about. It's not that he _couldn't_ tell when people were bored, it's just that he got so excited telling people about his odd and insignificant interests, that he forgot to check if his date was still listening. By the way Niall described the man Harry was about to go see, though, made Harry take a mental note to not go off on otherwise boring subjects.  
  
Harry got ready in the normal fashion he did, taking a bit less time this time, because he was expecting this blind date to turn out just like the rest of them: a waste of time. However, not all of the people Harry met were _bad people_ per se, they just weren't his type. Okay, so he didn't really have a type, but that didn't mean he had to get along with every person that came around. Harry was a strong believer in true love and infatuation at first sight, and he felt none of that with the people he had gestures encountered. So, when Harry sat at his table that had been reserved for him and his mystery man - Louis - he was expecting the same outcome as all of the last ones. Hopefully he could get home in enough time to finish "Britain's Next Top Model."  
  
Harry tapped out a rhythm on the table, anxiously awaiting the rest of his night. He was at a table where he couldn't see the entrance from, so he had no idea when his date was arriving. He took his phone out, checking the time, and realizing he still had about ten minutes before his date was actually supposed to show up.  
  
Turns out those minutes can pass by really fast when you spend them on "Flappy Bird."  
  
"And here's your table," a waitress said from above him. Harry's head snapped up and he met eyes with - holy _shit._ He was going to have a kiss Niall after this. They both stood there for a moment, staring at each other in awe. Louis took the seat from across Harry as the waitress set down menus.  
  
"I'll be back in a few minutes," she announced. Harry looked at Louis, analyzing every inch of his face because he could not believe that he was face-to-face with the man he met in the toilet again. There were slight differences, though. Louis wasn't wearing glasses, and he had two plastic pieces behind each ear that, although small, were well identifiable, considering his hair did not do anything to conceal them. He was wearing a grey button-up underneath a black blazer, and Harry almost fainted at how attractive he looked. When they had met in the toilet, Louis' hair was down in a messy I-just-got-out-of-bed sort of way, and if Harry thought he was fit then, he was sure to be blown out of his seat with how drop-dead gorgeous he was now.  
  
"Hi," Louis started. Harry was still in complete shock, but nonetheless, managed a small "hello" somewhere in-between his loud thoughts. He was suddenly thankful Louis seemed to like to talk, because Harry was going to need a few minutes to recover just from the way Louis' smiling over at him.  
  
"Didn't I meet you in the toilets just a few days ago?" That is what snapped Harry back into reality. Not that he hadn't been thinking of that toilet encounter for days on end, obviously.  
  
"I think so, yeah," Harry paused and then continued, "Right, I complimented your on your voice!"  
  
"My voice?" Louis asked, confused.  
  
Harry remembered that Louis didn't hear him. Well, shit.  
  
He cleared his throat, "Yeah, you were humming and it sounded really good, so I complimented you on it. You didn't say anything, though, so I don't think you heard me. Um, but I pointed out a paper stuck to your shoe," For a moment, Harry thought Louis was insulted because of the complete blank look he was supplying Harry with, but then he just offered a small chuckle. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled was enough to make Harry smile aswell, and as Louis got comfortable in his seat, all of the tension and awkward air suspiciously died, and he wondered why he already felt like he was so comfortable with Louis.  
  
"Well, great to meet you for real this time. Harry, right?" He said, extending his arm out to Harry's. Harry nodded and took another mental inventory of what Louis looked like, because _damn_ he looked good. They went through the process of ordering food and drinks, small talk in between, with mention of jobs, houses, and the occasional 'wow, that sounds really cool.' It was all going really well.  
  
"Okay, so you don't like football," Louis asked, cutting through his steak. Harry shook his head.  
  
"Well, then, what do you like?" It wasn't a rude question; Louis legitimately wanted to know what Harry liked. He took one last bite of his salad, and began talking about his love for photography. The way how different angles of pictures say completely different things, and the way lighting shades different parts of a scene can make a picture go from happy to scary. He told Louis about his favorite picture he had ever taken, and that was something he didn't usually share with people. It was a picture of the street he grew up on, only it was at night, right after the rain has stopped falling. The street lamps were glowing and the dim lighting was being reflected off of the wet surface of the road. He told Louis how he had had a bad day, but when he saw that scenery, and took that picture, everything just seemed to brighten up. He has the picture hanging up in his room, and he didn't usually dwell on his own photography, but that picture truly means something special to him.  
  
He had been going off on photography for awhile now, and he was so ecstatic that Louis asked him about it (well, he asked what Harry liked, but po-tay-toe po-tah-toe, right?) that he couldn't help telling him everything. He was in the middle of telling Louis about how he managed to get a picture of a frog jumping, when he saw Louis look down slightly and adjust his earpiece. Fuck.  
  
"And, I'm boring you, aren't I?" He asked, putting his hands back in his lap and stopping in the middle of his story.  
  
Louis looked up at him, eyes wide and immediately responded, "No, no! Not at all. Sorry, I was just adjusting my hearing," Harry paused, not knowing what else to say, so Louis continued with an embarrassed look on his face, "I-I like hearing your talk. I was turning it up so I could, um, so I could hear you better."  
  
And if that wasn't the sweetest thing Harry had ever heard, then he didn't know what was.  
  
Louis grabbed the back of his neck, looking down, and blushing slightly. He realized Harry was staring at him in complete wonderstruck, so he started rambling, "Sorry, go ahead and continue. The frog was trying to catch a dragonfly, right? But it missed, so it leaped, and you were trying to take a picture of the dragonfly, but the frog got in the way so you ended up getting this incredible picture of a frog," Louis trailed off at the end, meeting Harry's gaze and Harry didn't think he ever met someone so lovely.  
  
"You were actually listening?" Harry asked, bewildered.  
  
"Of course I was. I love listening to you talk," And it's as if that was the most simple thing in Louis' life, because he stated it so nonchalantly; as if it was a fact. Harry's face was holding a grimace, but he soon found himself unable to control the simper that threatened to take over his face. He didn't know why Louis loved hearing him talk, Harry hardly liked hearing _himself_ talk, so he couldn't imagine why anyone else would. Most of the time he was right, people didn't enjoy hearing him talk. Whether it was a stupid, meaningless story he decided to tell just for the sake of it, a joke that never got any laughs, or his passion - most people were uninterested. Of course, there were people like his family, who would always listen to him, and then there were people like Niall who would listen to anyone say anything.  
  
"Really?" He asked, still confused.  
  
Louis nodded and took a quick sip of his drink, "I love how you get so passionate about what you're saying and make all these," he waved his hands, "Hand gestures. And then your eyes get all big, it's-it's really cute."  
  
This man was a keeper. For sure.  
  
Harry blushed and looked down into his lap, mumbling a quiet "thanks." The rest of the date went by, as they not only flirted with each other, but talked and talked and talked about nothing and the world and everything inbetween. It was by far the best date Harry had been on in awhile - maybe the best _ever._ Louis told him about his own interests and hobbies: Playing footie, the occasional book, and singing, although he claimed he wasn't very good at it. Harry doubted that, very much. He could tell by the way he talks. that Louis probably had a wonderful voice and he would love to hear him sing sometime.  
  
Louis laughed, "I don't think that'll ever happen. I'm afraid my singing carrer stops at the shower curtain."  
  
The waitress brought their check and Louis offered to pay, but no, Harry was going to pay, but after bringing out evidence on why he should pay, they ended up splitting it. Harry walked Louis to his car, hands in pockets, and he noticed Louis adjusting his hearing aid again when they exited the building and Harry briefly wondered how many times a day he had to do that. The distance to his car wasn't long, but the walk was dark because of how late they ended up staying out, and wow didn't it get cold quick?  
  
"I had a great time out, Harry. It was lovely to actually talk to you this time," Louis stated, as he leaned against his car, Harry merely inches away from him. He wanted to kiss Louis, so _so_ bad. His lips were thin, but they were soft-looking and adorable that Harry wanted nothing more to close the gap in between them. Not to mention, they had been shamelessly flirting all night, so to have Louis a minor inch or so away from him almost made him dizzy in anticipation. His eyes flicked from Louis' mouth to his eyes, to his mouth again. In the end, it was Louis that made the move, pushing himself away from his car to meet Harry, eyes closed. At first, it was a simple brushing of the lips, so little pressure that it could hardly be considered a kiss. Then, Harry pressed lightly, so their mouths actually moved together.  
  
Just as Harry had imagined, it was nothing short of magnificent. Not even his imagination did any justice to the way Louis practically melted into the kiss, his fingers tangling together in Harry's hair. They cocked their heads to the side, tounges asking for permission against hot lips. As soon as Louis opened up his mouth, Harry pressed him against the car so hard that he had absolutely no way of escape. Not that he wanted one, anyway. The kiss became heated relatively quickly, and they soon found each other grinding against one another in a fit of heated passion. Harry had his hands on Louis' waist, keeping him flush against the car. When their lips finally disconnected, they allowed each other time to breathe; then, smiled.  
  
"Let me take you back to my flat," Harry said, kissing down Louis' neck.  
  
"Nice try, Styles. I don't put out on the first date," Louis stated as he cupped Harry's jaw and moved to kiss him again. They both smiled as they kissed each other.  
  
"Well, then I guess we'll just have to schedule another one, won't we?"  
  
Louis bit his lip, "I guess we will." He pulled out his phone and handed it to Harry, letting him type his information in. Right before Louis entered his car, he turned to Harry.  
  
"Listen, Harry, I," he paused and Harry's heart skipped a beat, "I really enjoyed talking to you. You're by far the most interesting person I've ever met."  
  
Harry furrowed his eyebrows before Louis added, "In a good way. Obviousily. I- sorry, just. I really like you. Um, so I'll call you," he finished, finally getting in his car, leaving Harry a foot away with his hands in his pockets.  
  
"I can't wait," Harry said, finishing the conversation. He smiled and watched possibly the love of his life drive off in his small, yet fitting, car. Harry walked over to his own, nothing on his mind but Louis and his lips and he didn't even have to think that hard in order to still feel Louis' touch all around him. It engulfed him like the waters engulfed the Earth and like the stars engulfed the night. He was still slightly dizzy as he walked into his flat and turned the lights on, lazily hovering in his living room for a minute. He took out his phone to see that Louis put his contact name in under "Louis ;)" and although it was probably nothing, it touched Harry's heart.  
  
He was completely and utterly fucked.  
  
****  
  
"There are two kinds of people in this world," is a saying that Harry grew up hearing. He didn't believe that for one second, though. He knew what the saying was trying to communicate, however, he himself did not want to recieve that message. He believed that everyone was an individual and had intricate personalities that only few people in their lives would probably ever understand. As he walked through the park with Louis, he thought of that again. How everyone had lives, and complexities in their lives, ect. He turned to Louis, taking in every last feature. Today he decided to go with a dark green jumper, and his hair wasn't as nicely styled as it was the other night (they agreed to see each other with only two days in between their first date because they not-so-secretly adored each other [not to mention, those two days also included many texts and phone calls]), but it was still better than Harry had ever seen anyone pull off. It had that same kind of vibe to it when he met Louis in the toilet; that sort of I-just-woke-up feeling, although you could tell he took time to take care of it.  
  
"Lou?" Harry asked, kicking the football Louis brought between his feet as they walked to the field.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Can I ask you something?" Louis nodded, eyebrows furrowing.  
  
"Why do you..." He paused, guesturing to the plastic peices in Louis' ear, "Need those?" The last part of that sentence came out extremely quiet, and he wasn't sure if Louis heard it or not, because he kept a straight face.  
  
After a moment, he chuckled, "Would you like the short version or the long version?" He asked, a smirk on his face.  
  
Harry didn't hesitate, "Long version."  
  
Louis sighed, picking up the football from between Harry's feet, considering they reached the field, "Well," He started, tossing the ball between his hands, "I was- y'know what? How about I give you the short version now?" He squinted against the sun.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"That way, I'll have a reason to talk to you again," A large smile crept across his face, and Harry blushed, taking the ball from between his hands.  
  
"You never need a _reason_ to talk to me, Lou," Louis didn't say anything, just watched Harry shuffle the ball in between his feet, "I'll always enjoy your company." With that, Louis felt his heart swell, but tried to ignore it. As if a light bulb went off in his head, he stepped towards Harry so that they were inches apart, and then took his face in his hands and kissed him deeply. While Harry was distracted, Louis kicked the ball from between his feet and swereved around Harry to start kicking it towards the goal.  
  
"You cheated!" He heard Harry call from behind him as he shot the goal.  
  
"You snooze you loose, young Harold."  
  
For a moment, Harry thought he said 'you booze you loose' and he wondered about how that would look on a tattoo.  
  
"I was not snoozing, I was too busy being distracted by someone who uses their good looks as an advantage to scam the other players," Harry pouted as him and Louis moved closer and closer towards each other. Louis sighed when him and Harry were, once again, inches apart, and they went to retrieve the ball together.  
  
"I was 11," Louis stated.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I started loosing my hearing at 11. By the age of 13 I had my first pair," He picked the ball up.  
  
"How bad is it without them?"  
  
Louis scoffed, "I'm basically deaf," before adding, "You should know. You tried to talk to me in the toilets. What were you, like, five feet away? And I couldn't hear anything." There was an undertone in the way Louis spoke about his condition, but Harry decided not to read into it too far.  
  
"Oh, yeah," Harry paused, "Wait, why weren't you wearing them in the toilet? Aren't you supposed to, like, wear them all the time?"  
  
Louis shrugged, "I was only going out for an emergency grocery run. I ran out of Yorkshire Tea and there was absolutely no way I was going another day without it." He laughed slightly. Harry chuckled to himself at discovering this new fact about Louis.  
  
"So you don't like wearing them?" He asked.  
  
"I usually don't notice it, actually. Sometimes, though, they get uncomfortable if I think about it too much," He paused, adjusting one of the pieces, "Like right now."  
  
"Really? Oh, sorry. I didn't mean for that to happen," Harry kicked at the dirt.  
  
Louis shook his head, "'s not your fault," He stopped messing with it and tossed the ball in the air, "It's my shitty genetics' fault!" The way he joked around about it made Harry feel a bit better, as Louis tossed the ball on the ground, starting to kick it around again. They played like that for awhile, only keeping track of points until either of them forgot or lost count. Louis, of course, was better than Harry which should've made Harry pout, but instead just made his heart swoon for the older lad. They took a break eventually, sitting on the park bench, sweaty and gross. Throughout the process, Harry had tied his hair back into a bun and, looking from the side, Louis could see his profile perfectly. He didn't even realize he was staring until Harry turned to meet Louis' eyes.  
  
Louis had always been a candid person with his feelings. He never wanted people to assume things about him, so he always said what was on his mind. That didn't mean he had no filter, however. He knew when to keep his mouth shut and when to voice an opinion just to make someone feel better. Right now, though, under Harry's gaze, he felt all of that completely dissapear. He had no idea what to say or what to do, he just knew that he was far too gone for a man he's known for less than a week. Technically speaking, in this moment in time where they were both wearing footie gear, and sweating their arses off, they shouldn't have been still attracted to each other as much as they were in this moment. They should've been able to control the burning desire for the other's body, and they should've been able to at least take a shower before kissing each other.  
  
Regardless, Harry leaned it at the same time Louis did, so their mouths ended up colliding with a blunt force. It was soft at first, just a little more then pecks, but it quickly went to them turning their heads to get a better angle, and then Louis nibbling lightly on Harry's bottom lip. Harry moaned into Louis' mouth, going straight to both of their cocks. Not wanting to get hard at a children's park, though, they parted; although they remained only and inch or two apart.  
  
"Hazza?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"I know that we, like, kinda just met...But I really like you," Louis was drawing a pattern into the bench with the tip of his index finger. Harry put his hand under Louis' chin and brought them eye-to-eye again.  
  
"I really like you too," They kissed again, more passionately this time. Harry already felt his heart bursting with feelings he had yet to recognize, because of how caught up in the moment he was. He had never met anyone like Louis Tomlinson, and he knew that on their first date. Someone who could go from being an arse, to being the one person in the world who understands you. He was truly something special.  
  
****  
  
"So this is the mancave," Louis commented, stepping inside of Harry's small, yet spacious flat. After the football match they had, Harry decided he just really wanted to be fucked by Louis. No one would blame him, though, because seeing Louis jog around in football shorts (with clearly no pants underneath) just made Harry itch with the realization of how long it's been since he had actual, real sex. Not including the one-night stands and wanks in the shower. So, he went with the excuse of "What? You haven't seen _The Notebook?_ Pack up everything, we're heading to my place right now," and took Louis to his flat.  
  
Harry walked him around, showing him all of the different things he was proud to own. The tour was quick, being as though Harry didn't exactly have _much_ and ended in his bedroom. He showed Louis the pictures on his nightstand, the pictures on his walls, and let Louis touch everything he felt like because, hey, why not?  
  
"Is this that picture you were telling me about?" Harry looked up from where he was rifling through his movie selections to see Louis standing in front of Harry's favorite picture he had ever taken. He was still surprised that Louis actually listened to him.  
  
"That's the one," He says, setting down _The Notebook_ , _Love Actually_ , and _Titanic._  
  
"I thought we were just watching _The Notebook_?" Louis asks, looking at the three movies Harry picked out.  
  
"I thought we could have a romantic movie night?"  
  
Louis smirked, "And what makes you think I want to spend my entire night with you?"  
  
"Well, the fact that you haven't left so far gives me pretty good signs," Harry answered, a smirk creeping up his won face. They were close again, could feel each other breathing.  
  
Harry couldn't wait for Louis to make the first move, so of course, he does. He puts his mouth on Louis', letting it sit there for a second, while waiting for a response. Louis gives him exactly what he wanted, quickly opening their mouths to accomodate for the other one. Their tounges moved together, getting faster by the second and more heated. Harry was determined to not let them be cut off or interuppted by anything, because it's been _so long_ and he just wanted this so bad. It's not even just that he wanted to have sex in general, it's that he wanted it with Louis. He wanted to feel Louis in every way he could think of; inside and out. That was his plan, and he was sticking with it.  
  
Harry trailed his hand from Louis' waist, down to his bum and squeezed. Louis let out a small gasp, and started kissing Harry harder, putting more fever into it. His hands were cupping Harry's face, not letting their lips disconnect for a second.  
  
"I want you," Harry breathed against his mouth, when he finally managed to get some breathing time. Not that he was complaining, of course. Louis just pulled him in again, kissing fiercely, and then pushing Harry so he fell against the bed. Harry smiled against his lips, noting that he liked Louis being agressive.  
  
Louis was placed over Harry , so that his hands were on either side of Harry's face, supporting himself as he dipped his head to kiss him. Harry used this opprotunity to take both of his hands, place them on Louis' arse, and pushing him down so their cocks slid against each other.  
  
"Fuck," Harry cursed to himself. Louis grabbed Harry's shirt and tugged it over his head, exposing the multiple tattoos Louis did not know existed. He took a moment to admire the tattoos and the meaning they probably all had, and Louis took a mental to ask Harry about them later. He would ask about them right now, but his mind was far to fuzzy to think of anything besides Harry and his body. He brought his lips down to suck on a spot right above Harry's collarbone, as Harry's hands went up his shirt, tugging it off after a bit of just feeling around. When Louis was satisfied with the mark he made, he placed a few more kisses up Harry's neck and made another, smaller mark right beneath his jaw.  
  
Harry took his hand he was gripping the sheets with and brought it right over Louis' crotch to start palming him through his shorts. Louis jumped up at the sudden contact, "Jesus Christ, Harry," He panted. He quickly made it to the waistband of Harry's joggers, and slid them down, pants going with him aswell. His cock was flushed red at the tip and already dripping with precum. Louis cursed at the sight and couldn't help but bring his mouth down on the tip.  
  
"Lou," Harry breathed as Louis had his mouth all over Harry's cock. He bobbed his head up and down a few times before sliding off completely, partially due to Harry pulling him up by his hair. Their lips crashed and Harry mumbled against Louis' lips, "Want you inside me."  
  
That was all Louis needed, before he was crossing the room to grab his wallet and pull out a small packet of lube and a condom. Harry ignored the fact that he came prepared.  
  
Louis spread Harry's legs and placed himself inbetween them before opening the lube with his teeth, and placing some of it on his fingers. He put his fingers down against Harry's hole as he let out a small moan before Louis even entered. Louis brought his lips to Harry's ear, "You're so eager, love." Harry just connected their lips in response, and Louis let Harry keep himself distracted as he placed one of his slicked fingers inside Harry's taut, pink hole. He let out a small moan and pushed his head back against the sheets, fingers gripping Louis' hair. Louis let Harry get used to the stretch, just moving his finger around slightly before Harry was asking for more. He slid in two more fingers at the same time, eliciting a deeper moan from Harry's lips. As Louis slid his fingers in and out, Harry used his hips to grind against them and Louis' cock was throbbing because of how _hot_ it all was.  
  
Harry may have looked innocent, but he fucked like a pornstar.  
  
Louis quickly drew all three fingers out, wiping them against the sheets and lubing himself up. He tried not to squeeze to hard, or go too fast because he could probably just come watching Harry look so _wrecked_ when he hasn't even had Louis' cock yet. He clumsily pulled the condom on, just anxious to get into Harry who was patiently watching him, while gripping the sheets so hard his knuckles were turning white as he tried not to touch himself. Louis finally lined himself up, meeting his face with Harry before grabbing him by the wrist and pinning him sown, so that theur foreheads were touching.  
  
"I want you to come untouched," Louis whispered to him. Even though he was biting his lip, Harry let out a small moan and nodded vigorousily. Not one more word was said before Louis slowly started entering Harry, not even making it half-way before he turned into a whimpering and squirming mess.  
  
"You okay, baby?" Louis asked, kissing Harry on the cheek.  
  
"Y-yeah. Keep-keep going." And so he did. He slid the rest of himself in, gave Harry time to adjust, and then pulled out so his tip was hardly still in him, and then slammed into his with such force, that Harry shouted from beneath him. He kept going, pounding into Harry's pert little arse, allowing no time for Harry to breath. His legs were spread so wide, his heels dug into the edges of the matress. Louis started going faster, and Harry was overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure shooting through his spine, but he never wanted it to stop. They were so connected in every way possible at this moment, and it was more intimate than any other time Harry could recall. Even there, lying on the bed, having his arse pounded into, he couldn't help but think there was something different about Louis. Something special he had never felt with anyone before this.  
  
"L-Lou, I'm go-I'm gonna come," Harry announced, not even finishing his sentence as he started shooting hot, white streaks all over his stomach. Louis groaned at the sight, and soon he himself shot into the condom. They both just stared at each other in a post-orgasmic bliss before Louis decided to pull out, and chuck the condom in a bin across the room. Harry layed there, only moving to reach across and grab a few Kleenexes to wipe himself clean. Louis plopped down beside him, staring at the cieling and breathing in and out in and out. Harry just watch his ribcage rise and fall, and after about a minute, they made eye contact.  
  
"That was fucking amazing, Harry," Louis said, as Harry scooted closer so that his head was resting across Louis' chest.  
  
"You were fucking amazing, Louis," He said back, smiling into a kiss.  
  
Neither of the said much more after that, keeping the stronger feelings to themselves. From the moment they met, they knew their lives were bound to take a turn for the better. Both of them took solace in the fact that they had a full-on connection from the date at the resteraunt, and if you ask Harry, from that time in the toilet. Strong feelings tugged at Louis' heart as he traced the tattoos on Harry's arm, while Harry hummed to "Valerie." It was just all so domestic, and Louis felt like he could definitely get used to this. Although he did, he didn't have to wonder if Harry felt the same. While Harry traced circles into Louis' soft skin, his emotions were full at the scene he found himself in.  
  
Voluntarily or not, they were already so gone for each other.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! As always, let me know if you have any requests :)


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